


i'll show you mine, if you show me yours

by Sereko



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Badboy!Kurt, M/M, Nerd!Blaine, PWP, bp, bp!Blaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2017-12-25 05:50:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/949378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sereko/pseuds/Sereko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Badboy!Kurt is very interested in what nerd!Blaine is hiding beneath his high-waisted pants, and Blaine is surprisingly inclined to show him. </p><p><i>or</i>: Two boys from opposite sides of the social spectrum find that being vulnerable isn't always that scary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a singular short drabble fill for an anon prompt (on [tumblr](http://asdreamsmaycome.tumblr.com/post/35438611772)), but was so fun to write that it rapidly expanded into more. It's more a series than a true chapter fic (which is why there isn't a set # of total chapters since I keep adding new parts as I'm prompted), though there is a consistent storyline and character growth through it all.

Blaine knows he is taking a chance walking past the football field on his way to his car. But he had to run back to his locker because he forgot his math book and he wants to finish that extra credit assignment he’s been working on for Mr. Stewart, which means that unless he wants to waste 15min walking all the way around the other side of the school, he has to brave running into the jocks mid-practice.

Unfortunately for him, he gets so focused on keeping an eye on the larger than life boys as they barrel into each other on the field, that he forgets that the gang members and resident delinquents also like to hang out behind the school after class.

"What do we have here?"

Blaine spins his head quickly to his left to stare wide-eyed at Kurt Hummel, known for his predilection for black leather and getting into fights during gym class. Also known to Blaine as a shameless flirt and one of the only other gay boys at their school.

”Hi, Kurt,” he squeaks while glancing around to see if any of the rest of Kurt’s scarier friends are around. He lets out a sigh of relief when he can’t find anyone but Kurt.

Kurt grins. “Happy to see me?” He saunters up to Blaine so the other boy has to stumble back a few steps under the cover of the bleachers.

"N-n-no." Blaine curses himself for stuttering. Kurt just makes him so nervous, though… _for a variety of reasons_.

"Aww, not even a little bit?" Kurt teases, using his pointer finger to push Blaine’s glasses up the bridge of his nose. He runs his finger around the thick black frames as Blaine falters around an answer. He eventually hooks a finger around the plastic and pulls the glasses right off Blaine’s face.

"Hey!" Blaine reaches out to grab them back, lunging forward when Kurt tucks them behind his back. "Don’t please! Give them back!"

Kurt halts Blaine’s progress forward with a hand cupping his jaw and a finger dusting across his cheek, just under his right eye. “I just wanted to be able to see your eyes.”

Kurt’s voice is a low murmur and Blaine stills from it and the gentle caress across his cheekbone.

"Oh."

While Blaine stands stunned, Kurt is quick with a kiss. It is close-mouthed and hard at first and Blaine goes rigid before Kurt’s lips coax him into relaxing. He’s just about to give in completely when he feels a finger tracing along the skin under the waistband of his pants.

"Speaking of hiding-" _Blaine scrunches his brow, had they been talking about hiding?_ “-what are you hiding down here?” Blaine tenses as Kurt slips first his finger, then his palm inside his boxers, and right when he knows Kurt will assume that he’ll find a cock past the nest of dark curls, his fingers slide over smooth folds instead.

Kurt’s eyes snap open in shock. Blaine watches him, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, holding back nerves both from the potential of being teased and also from how good Kurt’s hand feels against him.

"Oh Blaine, you’re nothing but surprises," and then Kurt is leaning for another kiss.

He slides his hand down further until the rough leather of his fingerless gloves cup Blaine. Blaine moans into their open-mouthed kiss and Kurt drags his lips to the left to trail hot and wet along Blaine’s jawline until he reaches his ear. “You like that, baby?”

When Blaine doesn’t immediately respond, Kurt presses his hand more firmly up against him until he’s arching into Kurt’s body and his breath comes out stumbled and fast.

"Y-yes."

"There’s more where that came from," Kurt nibbles against his earlobe. He pets at Blaine a few more times, liking how the other boy responds to the contrast of rough leather versus smooth skin. And then just as he slips his forefinger deeper past slick folds, he angles his head so he can lick a stripe down Blaine’s neck with the ball of his tongue ring.

"Oh my god," Blaine pants. His body is practically vibrating with a combination of arousal and anxiety and embarrassment. He can’t help but grip at Kurt’s shoulders for support when his knees start to give out.

It doesn’t take much. The newness of having someone else touch him so intimately and the feel of Kurt’s hardness rutting up against his thigh is enough to careen him over the top of a very sharp cliff.

It’s a quick orgasm, over before his body stops shaking, and he falls pliant into Kurt’s arms.

"Oh, honey."

Kurt’s voice is curiously tender as he wraps a strong arm around Blaine’s back to accept his weight.

Blaine breaks away as quickly as he can. His face is red with a blush and he keeps his eyes cast down to the ground. He stumbles back into the chain-link fence behind him. “I-oh god- what- I can’t believe you- I can’t believe _that_ just happened.”

Kurt smirks, wipes his hand off on his shirt and grips himself through his jeans.

"Next time, we’ll work on your stamina."

With a flick of his wrist by way of farewell, he disappears around the back of the bleachers.

"Next time?" Blaine chokes.


	2. Part 2

It’s three days later when Kurt corners him again, and all the time between is spent with charged glances and quick exits. But there’s no exit today.

"It’s about time we had that lesson in stamina," Kurt says coyly, making a point of sliding the lock on the classroom door shut so it echoes off the walls with a sense of finality.

Blaine gulps. “Here?”

"Why not?" Kurt glances around at the desks and dry erase boards and the maps of the world pinned to the back wall. "Did you have somewhere else in mind? Back to the bleachers, perhaps?"

Blaine almost says _“I didn’t have any place in mind,”_ but his inability to lie stops him.

"I ‘spose I could always take you back to my place. Then we’d have some… _privacy_.”

The gleam in Kurt’s eye causes Blaine to step back, stumbling into one of the student desks. Instead of imagining what kind of a place Kurt lives in, his mind conjures up the memory of Kurt heading home on his motorcycle the day before.

His legs had looked so thick, so strong, straddling that chrome deathtrap. Blaine can’t help but imagine then what it would be like if he were on the back of it, the front of his thighs pressing into the backs of Kurt’s as they flex and release on the pedals, his arms wrapped around a taut torso, his cheek resting against the back of a leather-clad shoulder.

"You’d like that, would you?" Kurt’s voice is a whisper against his ear and Blaine jumps back, startled.

"N-no!" His fight or flight instincts kick in and he ducks Kurt’s grabbing arms to rush in between the adjacent isle of desks. He’s almost to the door when Kurt rushes in front of him to block the way. His hands are up as if in surrender -no, _placating_ , Blaine corrects himself with a grumble.

"Hey now, don’t tell me you didn’t like our last little encounter."

Blaine does everything he can not to remember the feel of nimble fingers and a well-placed tongue piercing. But then he peeks at a flash of silver behind Kurt’s teeth and his knees start to shake. He adjusts his glasses, a nervous twitch.

Kurt is observing him with far too discerning an eye. The playful smirk and egotistical sway to his body have fled in favor of planted feet and a tender curiosity. “I know you did, Blaine,” he continues. “I did too. Don’t look so surprised. It was just as much fun getting you off as it is getting myself off.”

Blaine splutters, wringing his hands together and estimating his chances of successfully bypassing Kurt in order to leave the room. The probability is low. Especially if Kurt keeps touching his hip like that. Wait, wha-

"I want to make you feel good again, Blaine," Kurt soothes while continuing to stroke a lazy finger over Blaine’s hipbone under his now-untucked polo. "And I want to make it last."

"Stamina. Right." Blaine’s head is starting to get fuzzy. He drops onto the corner of the desk behind him, his legs naturally spreading to either side of the laminated wood surface.

"Is that a yes?" Blaine doesn’t answer, but Kurt takes it as one.

He follows Blaine down and starts to suck at Blaine’s jawline while his hands pull at the buttons of his pants. It doesn’t take much to shuck Blaine’s jeans down his thighs, especially when he’s easily distracted by Kurt’s lips finding his again.

"I want to see. Can I see?"

Blaine shudders at how breathy Kurt’s voice is. He’s not sure he’s ever turned someone on before. It’s a heady feeling. He nods shakily, and even though Kurt is too close to see the motion, he feels it where their temples are pressed together.

Blaine squirms when his boxers are lowered, not liking how the cold press of the desk shocks his system into remembering where he is and what is about to happen. “K-Kurt. We can’t, not here. Someone could walk in any second.”

"Mmmm, yeah, that’s not gonna make me stop," Kurt admits with a chuckle. He ignores Blaine’s further protests in lieu of angling his head down to see what has finally been bared to him. He crowds closer to Blaine to force his legs even further apart and cups each thigh with his hands to spread the boy open for his gaze. " _Fuck_.”

Blaine looks down with him when he realizes he can’t logic Kurt out of this situation nor can he will his own feverish body to move.

His pussy is wet, just enough to add an inviting shine to the pink flesh, and seems to gape open in welcoming. A shiver runs up his spine when he acknowledges how much he wants this - _has wanted this_ since that first time under the bleachers. He rolls his hips up to meet Kurt’s hand as it strokes once from the bottom of his slick folds up to his hardened clit.

"Oh god, Kurt." His hand tightens around Kurt’s bicep, his eyes falling closed.

"You’re shaking."

"Am I?"

"Mmm," Kurt confirms as he begins to rub Blaine’s clit between two fingers. "Remember now, this time you have to last."

"Until- _ungh_ \- until when?” Blaine wishes his question didn’t sound so much like a whine, but he can’t help himself. Kurt has slipped two fingers inside him and is rocking them in and out while pressing the flat of his palm against Blaine’s mound.

"Until _I_ come.”

Blaine opens his eyes to take stock of Kurt and is surprised to find sweat beading on his forehead and gasps escaping where breaths should be. It’s then that he also realizes the hand that Kurt isn’t currently using to drive Blaine mad is buried inside his own unzipped pants and jerking himself off. Blaine groans and grapples for Kurt’s hips to bring him closer still and dislodge his hand from his cock.

"What are you-?"

"Stop it," Blaine snips when Kurt tries to reach for himself again. Instead he slides both hands brazenly down the back of Kurt’s ass, griping once firmly causing Kurt to squeak, and then continuing down so that Kurt’s skin-tight pants and - _no underwear oh god no underwear_ \- gather at mid-thigh.

He takes one brief moment to admire the length and girth of Kurt’s dick as it curls up towards his stomach… oh, who is he kidding, he blushes like a schoolboy and tries not to giggle at how very far out of his element he is, but then he pulls Kurt forward far enough to shove him up against the hand he still has buried inside Blaine.

They both grunt at the move. Kurt raises an impressed eyebrow.

"Definitely full of surprises," he murmurs before sliding his hand free from between them to replace it with the head of his cock. He doesn’t penetrate, just runs it over Blaine’s opening to press along the underside of his clit and then strokes back down. He continues the move several more times until he’s fully rutting against Blaine’s exposed pussy, the generous wetness it’s exuding aiding the slide.

"Kurt?" Blaine asks tentatively. He has one hand clawing at the back of Kurt’s neck for purchase while the other keeps a firm grip on one of his ass cheeks. Every muscle in Blaine’s body feels like it’s constantly flexing through tremors of pleasure.

"Y-eah? _Hnnng-_ ”

Blaine clenches his eyes shut when Kurt’s next thrust rubs his clit in that perfect way that unspools the heat that’s been burning low in his gut. “C-can I come yet?”

Kurt seizes up at Blaine’s innocent question, his hips stuttering.

"Yes, god yes, baby. Let go."

And just before Blaine releases the tremulous hold he’s had on his body, he feels Kurt jerk against him and sticky wetness hit his stomach. He forgets to care when his own orgasm rockets through him. His arms seem to unconsciously tighten around Kurt until they’re smashed together and shuddering as one.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, Kurt."

Kurt cups the back of Blaine’s head when he presses it into Kurt’s neck. “You did good. Fuck, you did so good.”

"Well."

"Excuse me?"

"I did _well_. Not good. That’s improper grammar.”

Kurt’s laugh is louder than any other noise they made in the past ten minutes, but luckily it doesn’t draw the attention of the janitorial staff roaming the halls.

And it takes everything in him for Blaine not to make a comment to the bullying jock Ben Herbert the next day when he’s sitting in his usual seat during World History, which Blaine can still see his own ass print on.


	3. Part 3

They eventually arrange to meet up outside of school. While Kurt is content to sneak into bathroom stalls and make-out around corners in crowded hallways, Blaine doesn’t want every sexual experience he ever has to be sullied by a place he both loves and fears on a daily basis.

It is he who suggests Kurt come over one day after school when he knows his parents will be in New York for business. It is also he who chooses to start their study date in his bedroom instead of the living room or office. However, it is Kurt who greets him with an open-mouthed kiss and a hand down his pants. He is in nothing but his underwear in 10 seconds flat.

”Why do you wear boxers?”

"Why shouldn’t I? Just because I have a- a-"

"Pussy. You can say it, Blaine."

"No, I can’t." Blaine is ashamed of his own shyness and looks down at his lap, picking at the fold in his boxers.

Kurt quiets his fingers with a calming hand. “It’s who you are.” Kurt rubs his thumb over the top of Blaine’s knuckles. “And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

When Blaine looks down to watch how their hands interlace, he notices that Kurt’s shirt has ridden up and exposed his hip.

"What’s that?"

"Huh?" Kurt glances down with him. Partially hidden by the top of his jeans lies a tattoo of a butterfly. "Nothing!" he barks and pulls his shirt down forcefully, turning his body around deliberately so that even if Blaine had the magical ability to see through solid black fabric, he still wouldn’t be able to see the tattoo anymore.

"Come on. I know you have some Chinese characters on your arm and two stars behind your ear. Was that a butterfly?"

"No! What is this? 20 questions? This isn’t what I thought we’d be doing when you invited me over," Kurt grumbles.

"Well _I_ thought I was going to be tutoring you in Chemistry.”

Kurt throws him a disbelieving look. Blaine shrinks, suddenly realizing his own naivete. Maybe part of him knew that it was a silly notion, and maybe that same part of him didn’t mind the ruse and had been looking forward to a sexier lesson plan.

“ _Really?_ ” Kurt asks unnecessarily, pinching Blaine’s chin between two fingers and drawing him in for a kiss. “I think we both know that’s a lie.”

He kisses again and Blaine tries not to be too eager in his response. But he can’t help it if he likes the way Kurt makes him feel and if his body wants more. He hums a little happily as their lips slide together, barely noticing when Kurt pushes him down so they’re laying on the bed.

Blaine is a little stiff with anxiety until Kurt starts to pet at his sides in time with his kisses. His stomach flutters when Kurt covers it with a splayed palm.

"I want to taste you."

Almost before Blaine can register that he doesn’t mean the mouth-to-mouth kind of tasting, Kurt has shifted them up the bed and settled between Blaine’s legs to pull his underwear down and off.

Blaine is exposed again, the cold air hitting him like it did the other day in Professor Cartright’s classroom, but this time Kurt’s warm breath is there to chase away the chill. It doesn’t chase away Blaine’s shivers of awareness and nerves, though.

The first lick is light and quick and shocking enough that Blaine’s entire body jerks.

"Shhh," Kurt coos. "I’ll make you feel real good, baby."

For whatever reason, Blaine trusts that, trusts him. He unclenches a fist to interlace it with the fingers of one of Kurt’s hands. The supposed rebel glances up quickly at the emotionally intimate contact, but he doesn’t retract his hand. In fact, he squeezes it a little when he goes in for his next taste.

Kurt sticks with the tip of his tongue at first, trailing along the edges of Blaine’s pussy, circling his hardening clit, teasing his entrance. When there’s more wetness than before, he pushes in with the flat of his tongue so his tongue ring pops out and the cold metal plays against the heat of his mouth.

Blaine gasps loudly above him. “Oh god, _oh god_ -“

Kurt takes his time, enjoying the tang on his tongue and the softness of Blaine’s pussy compared to the cocks he’s used to servicing. He sucks at the nub on top and covers it completely with his mouth so he can feel every pulse of Blaine’s racing heartbeat through his pussy lips. He sucks hard a few times so Blaine is mewling above him and then licks around his clit so the metal of his tongue ring traces the peak.

Blaine whimpers more loudly this time. The contrast of the hard, cold metal to Kurt’s warm, encompassing mouth keeps his body arched and shaking, not knowing what’s coming next. He concentrates on the feel of one of the silver balls as it moves down from his clit to his swollen entrance and when Kurt thrusts inside him with his entire tongue, he’s unable to keep himself from clenching his thighs around Kurt’s head.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck- _hnnnnng_.” Blaine isn’t even aware of the words spewing from his mouth. He’s not sure he’s actually forming words, just panting syllables and grunts that get lucky and form something coherent every now and again. He’s always prided himself on being articulate, but he’ll forgive himself this one time.

Kurt pins Blaine’s knees wide and open on either side of him to save his head from their involuntary squeezing. He pulls off for a brief moment just to see how thoroughly debauched Blaine is with his hair a riot of messy curls, sweat on his brow, and his eyes clenched shut and places a soft kiss to the inside of Blaine’s right thigh before diving in again.

Blaine is almost at the end and he knows it, so Kurt dips his hips to trap his erection between him and the bed. He’s still wearing his pants (he really has to get better about striping before the main event) but the tightness of his jeans is actually a godsend as it adds an extra level of friction when he starts to hump the bed. It’s a bit undignified for his taste _-he is not the type of guy that usually has to get himself off-_ but he can’t pull away from Blaine long enough to care about how he looks.

"Kurrrrrt," Blaine whines, tugging at the hand that he had re-gripped after Kurt pinned him down. He can feel himself on the edge and is desperate for that little bit more than will tip him over.

Kurt obliges. He blows a cool gust of air over the heat emanating from Blaine’s pussy, shooting a shiver right up the other boy’s spine, then licks long and flat until his piercing nudges Blaine’s clit. He brings it back down slowly and pushes inside once more, letting both ends of the metal hit along Blaine’s inner walls. Even he is turned on by the difference in the unrelenting silver and yielding flesh.

It takes only a few more stabs of his tongue and deep sucks of his mouth for Blaine to come hot and wet and loud beneath him. Kurt laps at the throbbing folds as he presses hard into the bed a few more times until he too is coming.

Once they’re done, when Blaine is mindless and euphoric and Kurt is trying to hide how much he’s still shaking from his own orgasm, Kurt strips off his sweaty shirt to clean them up.

Blaine sees it again, then, and watches how the butterfly wings stretch and fly as Kurt hovers over him.

"I got it for my mom," Kurt mumbles, noticing his gaze. "She loved butterflies."

"Loved?"

"She passed away when I was really young. That was the first tattoo I got… to remember her by."

Blaine sits up with a bit of a wobble and smooths a hand across the broad expanse of Kurt’s naked back. He takes a chance, hoping the way Kurt just opened up to him means they are more than just fuck buddies, and hooks his chin over Kurt’s shoulder.

"It’s pretty. I like it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."


	4. Part 4

It never really occurs to Blaine that being the occasional warm body to sate Kurt Hummel’s curiosity affords him some level of protection. They aren’t dating. They aren’t “official.” They don’t walk down the halls together, Kurt with his arm wrapped possessively across Blaine’s shoulder with a glare or a smirk to any confused jock who’s watching.

That kind of thing only happens in Blaine’s daydreams between 2nd period English and 3rd period Calculus.

So, the first time Ben Herbert stops mid-attack when Blaine is already bracing for impact against his locker, it comes as a surprise. Ben gives him a dirty look, says something flippant and macho to his entourage to cover up his sudden leniency, then walks away. Blaine is left with a pounding heart and wide eyes and a million questions sounding off inside his own head.

Until he sees Kurt.

Kurt in a simple white t-shirt, torn jeans and an armful of studded leather cuffs. He isn’t doing anything but staring intently through a hole between two of his own groupies, but there’s purpose behind that gaze and it’s clear he managed to frighten Ben away with the threat of something nasty, maybe even something dangerous. Blaine is pretty sure he keeps a pocket knife hidden on his person somewhere.

Blaine isn’t sure if he should approach to give thanks or scurry away, so he settles for smiling shyly in Kurt’s direction and then heading to class.

He doesn’t see Kurt again until after school when he’s about to walk home because his bike managed to find itself in ten different pieces. Kurt rides his motorcycle right up to Blaine on the sidewalk, letting the engine idle as he flips the visor on his helmet.

"Need a ride?"

Blaine looks around. _People might see._ Up until now, Kurt has been pretty good about making sure their secret dalliances remain just that - secret. “But you-” he starts weakly.

"Get on," Kurt insists before replacing his visor and facing straight ahead.

Blaine hesitates for a minute. How smart is it really for him to align himself with someone prone to failing grades and getting detention for smoking? How smart also to get on the back of an incredibly unsafe mode of transportation without a helmet?

"Get. On." Kurt’s voice has a hard edge to it. It demands, and Blaine’s blood suddenly riots with the need to answer.

In an act that he can only claim later as sheer stupidity, Blaine straps his bike helmet securely on his head, shoulders his backpack and straddles the seat snugly behind Kurt.

"Don’t worry, I’ll take the back streets."

Blaine barely hears the words before the engine flares to life and Kurt is maneuvering them carefully out of the parking lot. The back streets bring with them constant stop signs and Blaine can’t help but smile when he realizes that Kurt is trying to be careful with him. He squeezes Kurt’s middle a bit tighter, nosing against the inked stars behind his ear.

Four blocks later, Blaine’s mind has shifted quite abruptly from warm and fuzzy to hot and thrilling. The metal between his thighs shudders with every slow down and speed up and in addition to sending constant vibrations through his entire body, it jostles Blaine closer and closer to Kurt until their thighs are plastered together.

Blaine can feel himself getting wet from all the stimulation and only prays that it’s not enough to show through the khaki slacks he’d decided to wear that day. The last thing he needs is for Kurt to notice how completely debauched he is just from a simple ride home.

"Here you go."

Kurt’s voice is like a shotgun in his ear and Blaine jumps up and off the bike too quickly when he realizes they’re in front of his house. Kurt reaches out and steadies him before his shaky legs tumble him to the ground.

"Hey there, easy. You okay?"

"Y-yes, fine. Thanks. For the ride." Blaine’s head is lowered, as it tends to be in all social interactions, but most especially when talking to the man who parades about all willy-nilly in his fantasies.

"Hey."

"Hmm?" Blaine looks up in question, just in time to be trapped in a hard kiss. Kurt’s teeth drag across his bottom lip when he pulls back and Blaine finds himself stumbling forward a step to remain connected.

"See ya tomorrow." Kurt winks, completely aware of the effect he’s having on Blaine. It’s almost enough to make Blaine scowl.

"Why don’t you come in?" he says instead. Blaine shakes his head. Where oh where has his willpower gone?

"What?"

"Come. Inside. My-ah- my parents won’t be home for a little while and we could… well, I mean…"

Kurt parks his bike, removes his helmet and is walking Blaine to his own front door with an arm around his shoulder (eerily similar to how Blaine imagined them earlier that morning at McKinley) before Blaine has a chance to second guess his invitation.

"What a splendid idea."

Blaine squints up at the teasing tone in Kurt’s voice and the sly grin stretching his lips, but manages to unlock the front door and drop his backpack by the foyer before Kurt slams him against the wall for an unrelenting kiss. Blaine whines low in his throat and grapples for purchase along Kurt’s back. One of his favorite things about being with Kurt is how he takes control. Blaine doesn’t have to worry about awkwardly asking after refreshments or fumbling through a seduction. There isn’t _time_. Kurt is always so wonderfully insistent.

"C-couch," he gasps out in between having his tongue sucked and Kurt biting a path down his neck.

"I dunno, wall seems nice."

"No. N-no," Blaine insists with a push to Kurt’s chest. He pulls back to stare hard into Kurt’s unfocused eyes. "Couch. I want to try something."

"Oh?" Kurt’s eyebrows raise with his voice and then he’s hoisting Blaine up with his hands under his ass and Blaine’s legs wrapped around his waist to walk them into the living room. He pauses for a second in front of the plush ivory couch, thoughts and ideas and vivid dreams playing out in his mind. So many possibilities.

Blaine laughs before shoving him down to sit with Blaine straddling his lap. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

"I’m not. Just plotting out our activities for the next week is all."

Blaine bites his chin for the cheeky remark. He runs his hands over Kurt’s thin white shirt, feeling muscle and nipples and belly, but targets the black leather belt keeping him from what he really wants. His heart beat skyrockets when Kurt sucks in a surprised breath as he wraps a hand around Kurt’s already hard cock. Maybe that ride home excited more than one of them.

"Oh, fuck."

Blaine looks up, pulls in his lips and asks, “Is this okay?”

"Yes, god yes-" Kurt smashes their mouths together until the insecurity flees from Blaine’s expression. "Is this what you meant by trying something?"

"Oh- uh, well, no." Blaine tests the weight in his hand, stroking to see how the skin moves over hot flesh. He’s given Kurt a handjob before - not quite like this, but still. "Do you have condoms?"

Kurt’s hips are up in a flash. They both groan loudly when the move shoves Kurt’s dick hard into Blaine’s hand and crotch. Kurt rummages around in his back pocket before tossing his wallet to the side and presenting a gleaming foil packet.

Blaine leans forward and says in his most seductive voice, “Put it on.” He won’t admit it’s because he doesn’t know how to properly put on a condom. It’s another reason he’s grateful - and not at _all_ jealous, of course - that Kurt has had experience. While he watches Kurt obey out of the corner of his eye, he stands up to remove his pants and boxers and reseats himself across Kurt’s flexed thighs.

It’s Kurt who slows him down then. He circles Blaine’s wrists to stop their flurried movements and then cups his face softly.

"Blaine? Are you sure?"

Even if he hadn’t been before, the look of tenderness that is shining through Kurt’s eyes and out through his fingertips would have been more than enough.

"Yes."

Kurt kisses him. It lacks the teeth and fire of their usual kisses, but the sweetness of it guides Blaine as he sinks himself down on Kurt.

"Oh _shit_ ,” Kurt swears once Blaine is fully seated. Blaine had been dripping wet before they even entered the house and his pussy pulses greedily around Kurt’s cock.

Blaine pants into Kurt’s neck, his own neck suddenly too weak to hold his head up as he rests it on Kurt’s shoulder. He had tried to imagine what it would feel like. But fingers and toys and a few household items he probably shouldn’t have experimented with are nothing like Kurt. Kurt who is hot and hard and still somehow a little soft so their bodies seem to mold together. Blaine lifts up his hips and drops down curiously.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, _Kurt_.”

"I know, _I know_.” Kurt wraps his arms like two tight bands around Blaine and meshes them together as Blaine continues to move. Their lips don’t find each other again, at least not on target. There’s a lot of corner kisses and sloppy open-mouthed attempts at more, but it’s like one connection is already enough - _perfect, too much_ \- and their bodies can’t manage another. Not when every fiber of Blaine’s being is zoned in on the nerves he never knew he had inside himself.

Kurt never takes control, either, which surprises Blaine. He’s not used to setting the pace or directing the action, though he is enjoying being in charge of what angle and what speed they go at. When things are too much and Blaine is sure his orgasm has short-circuited his brain, he slows down only to find he hasn’t come at all, but was merely overwhelmed by new sensations. So then he speeds up, chasing those sensations over and over and over again until he hears Kurt moaning with every thrust and shuddering with every fall.

"Fuck- _ungggh_ \- fuck, Blaine. I’m-I’m-“

And Blaine opens his clenched eyes and clasps Kurt’s face in his hands so he can see it happen. See this man who pretends so much, who guards so much, completely unravel underneath him.

He realizes as he watches Kurt grit his teeth and clench his fists in Blaine’s shirt that he was right to think he had already come earlier, because he can feel each throb of Kurt’s cock a hundred fold and when he comes again his body liquifies in a way it never has from a single orgasm. He loses control of himself for a moment, dropping onto Kurt like a newborn foal and shaking with continual sparks curling his toes and igniting his very blood cells.

"Kurt," Blaine says in a breathy whisper. He hardly recognizes the helpless tone as his own.

"Fucking hell, that was amazing," Kurt admits with a smacking kiss to Blaine’s temple. "Anytime you want to try something new, you just go right ahead, okay?"

Blaine smiles dopily, more than a little pleased with himself.

"Mmm, k."


	5. Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks be to [Mary](http://blametheleather.tumblr.com/) for her help in plotting this and to my porn!anon for the initial inspiration!

It’s a relatively quiet afternoon at The Lima Bean - that perfect time of day between early risers’ morning cup of coffee and lazy Saturday sleepers’ afternoon caffeine boost. Blaine’s favorite table by the window was actually unoccupied when he got in and he was quick to snag it once his coffee was ready.

Now he sits, nervously picking at the sleeve on his to-go cup and stabbing at leftover crumbs of his biscotti with his forefinger. He showed up early on purpose because he wanted time to rethink his decision and what he is going to say to Kurt.

After a month of casual dalliances, some sudden in conveniently close and empty rooms at school and some drawn out in private bedrooms, he wants more. He never thought to ask for it before. What he is getting is already more than he ever expected. Someone noticed him. Someone is attracted to him. Someone wants to kiss him.

But being with Kurt has done great things to his confidence level and he’s getting greedy. It’s not enough to get each other off or to flirt to the point of frustration between classes. Blaine wants the in-between time too. The dates and the hand-holding and the soft smiles that aren’t sated from sex. He wants a relationship.

Unfortunately, everything he’s seen and heard from Kurt seems to indicate he wants the opposite. He likes their secrecy and the thrill of the sudden. He likes keeping emotions out of the equation - though whether he’s truly been able to do that is up for debate. Blaine knows he sees hints of caring amidst bravado and general jackass-ery.

"Hey, handsome, what are you doing over here all by yourself?"

Blaine shakes out of his reverie and looks up at the tall stranger suddenly leaning over his table. “Excuse me?”

"I said, what’s a good looking guy like you doing sitting back here all by yourself?" The man’s sharp green eyes twinkle with the pick-up line. "This seat free?" He indicates the empty chair opposite Blaine, then drops into it without waiting for Blaine to answer.

It’s the assumption and the ego that raise Blaine’s hackles. He sits up a little straighter and says strongly, “Actually no. I’m waiting for someone.”

"Oh?" Blaine tries not to notice the pleasant arc of the other man’s eyebrow or the long line of his throat. He’d be more handsome if he didn’t drip with his own self-knowledge of it, but Blaine still feels his cheeks flush that he caught the eye of a man such as this.

"Is he late? I can’t imagine leaving someone like you waiting." His voice is honey, so Blaine ducks his head to not be drawn in by it. "Oh wow. You don’t know how cute you are, do you?"

Blaine’s head shoots up when he feels fingers dancing over the top of the hand he has laying on the table. The man certainly is brazen. And while he knows he isn’t a potato sack, Blaine wouldn’t exactly say he’s cute. Not with his glasses and bowties and lack of 6-pack abs.

"You really don’t," the man says wondrously. He palms Blaine’s hand and says, quite sincerely, "I’d love to show you. Maybe over another cup of coffee?"

"I don’t think-"

"Who’s this?"

Kurt’s voice is hard in the calm quite of the coffee shop. He stands in strong contrast in his black leather and torn jeans to the tailored blazer and perfectly tied tie of the man seated in front of Blaine. The second they catch each other’s eye, though, Kurt goes from possessive to livid.

"Sebastian," he growls, taking a step back from the man and closer to Blaine. Blaine wishes he didn’t feel that growl all the way to his groin.

"Kurt fucking Hummel," Sebastian laughs, extremely pleased. He stands up to be on equal footing and Blaine lifts his chin to watch them both square off with one another. He’s not entirely sure what’s happening, but his heart is beating faster and the color on his cheeks is only deepening. "Oh this is too perfect. Did I stumble across one of your toys?"

Blaine straightens, despite his instinct to cower, and tries to work out if Sebastian is insulting him or is insulted on his behalf.

"No." Kurt’s answer only confuses Blaine further. For if he’s not a fuck buddy, what is he? They certainly aren’t boyfriends. "What the hell is a slimy bastard like you doing here? We’re pretty far away from your gilded cage."

"Slimy bastard? Is that really the best you can do?" Sebastian looks down at Blaine as if the poor insult is a point in Sebastian’s favor. "I was… expanding my horizons, let’s say. Been a while since flavors of the month like yourself were in the Warblers." He slides forward a step, knowing Kurt won’t retreat from his spot in front of Blaine, and snakes a hand up Kurt’s chest. "I miss this body on cold nights at Dalton. Think I might have found a better one to take your place though."

In a blink, Sebastian is hunkered down in front of Blaine, his shoulder blocking Kurt from advancing. He touches Blaine’s arm, almost tentatively, then trails his fingers down to the wrist he’d previously held in his grasp.

"If you ever get tired of this one tossing you aside, look me up. You’re far too pretty to be someone’s dirty little secret."

He smiles, warmly, then taps Blaine’s glasses affectionately before shoulder checking Kurt to make his way to the door.

Kurt immediately spins around to glare down at Blaine. “What did he say to you? Were you having coffee with him?”

"Wh-what?" Blaine is so caught off guard by the entire encounter he doesn’t know how to process Kurt’s apparent jealousy. "No, I was waiting for you. He just came over. He’s your ex?"

Kurt is still staring hard out the window where he can see Sebastian making his way to his car.

"Come on," he commands, grabbing Blaine’s hand and pulling him from the cafe. "I’m not in the mood for coffee anymore."

——

Turns out, not being in the mood for coffee is slang for “let’s have sex” as Blaine discovers ten minutes after letting Kurt into his empty house. He doesn’t pause in the entryway or by the couch they’ve now christened twice as Blaine would have thought, but instead continues straight ahead up the stairs to Blaine’s room.

"D-do you want something to drink?" Blaine asks tentatively before shutting his bedroom door behind him when Kurt shakes his head.

Blaine watches Kurt pace for a moment. He’d been trying to figure out the entire drive over to his house if Kurt was upset at seeing a clearly disliked ex-boyfriend or because said ex-boyfriend had been hitting on Blaine. The way Kurt’s eyes kept flicking to Blaine and the tight grip he kept on their interlaced hands in the car implies the latter. Blaine squints in disbelief while he tracks Kurt back and forth across his room.

"What the fuck are you smiling at?"

Blaine immediately schools his expression. He hadn’t realized he’d been grinning. But the corners of his mouth curl up again when he remembers why he’s so happy.

"What?" Kurt demands angrily.

"You like me."

"No I don’t."

Blaine doesn’t falter. Once, maybe, before he met Kurt, before Kurt gave him courage, he might have automatically backed down and agreed with him. But no longer. He smiles wider, so his cheeks push his glasses further up his nose.

"Yes, you do," he whispers softly.

Kurt crowds closer to him. “No, I don’t. Take that back.” His hands find the wall on either side of Blaine’s shoulders and the clear show of dominance just causes Blaine to preen more. He reaches out to trace Kurt’s side, over his butterfly tattoo. 

"I think you do."

"You think wrong." Forceful desperation is taking over petty anger and Kurt pushes in further, his front pressed completely up against Blaine. His mouth falls to Blaine’s neck almost instinctively. "Take it back."

"Take what back? Words are just words. Your actions are speaking much louder than those right now." Blaine isn’t smug when he says it. He’s thoughtful, at peace, still tracing up Kurt’s sides and arching to expose more of his neck.

Kurt growls and bites playfully at the warm skin beneath his lips. He worries it with his tongue and sucks wet and hot when the flavor become too tempting to resist.

"I don’t like you. We’re fuck buddies. That’s it."

Blaine gazes calmly at Kurt when he pulls back to glare power into his words. “Then why aren’t you fucking me right now?”

Kurt’s eyes flare wide at the invitation and he thrusts his half-hard cock into the curve of Blaine’s hips. His mouth falls again to Blaine’s neck where he starts to suck another mark into the thin skin. Blaine mewls beneath him and draws one leg up to hitch around Kurt so their every movement shoves their groins closer together.

"You’re such a little tease, aren’t you?" Kurt hisses before slamming Blaine hard enough into the wall that the pictures rattle.

"How’s that?" Blaine gulps around quick gasps of breath. He can feel himself getting wetter and wetter the more Kurt ruts into him and starts pawing at the back of Kurt’s shirt to pull it up and over his head.

Kurt allows him, then shoves back so they can both haphazardly tear off the rest of their clothes. The second Blaine straightens back up after pulling off his boxers, Kurt has him around the waist and tosses him onto the bed. Blaine tries not to laugh when Kurt pounces on top of him, the other boy is trying too hard to be serious and Blaine can see right through it.

"Don’t pretend you don’t know." Kurt catches Blaine’s hands when they try to pull him in for a kiss and slams them down on the mattress on either side of them. "Your naive little smile." Kurt drops down for a brutal kiss. "You know more than you let on," he hisses into Blaine’s open mouth. He licks around the opening and nips at Blaine’s lips, imitating something he usually does a bit further south.

"Kurt," Blaine groans. He knows what this is, but has no way to respond other than to let Kurt have his piece. He stretches his neck up, silently begging for more kisses and more marks that he can press at under the collar of his polo when he casually passes Kurt in the McKinley hallways.

Kurt accepts the invitation and licks down the thick column of muscle. His hips are stuttering against Blaine’s thigh, but he isn’t willing to move or shift any of his weight off Blaine to get a condom, so he lets the slide of his smooth cock along the grain of Blaine’s leg be enough.

"I don’t want anyone else to have this. I don’t want you to say anyone else’s name like that." Blaine is whimpering beneath him by now, riding Kurt’s thigh and becoming light-headed from the hickeys peppering his skin. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," Blaine pants. He close. _So_ close. “You don’t want anyone else to have me.”

"Right." Just a little more.

"Because you like me."

There. _There there there there_.

"Right," Kurt grunts as he comes over Blaine’s stomach.

——

"You think you’re so clever, don’t you?" Kurt asks a while later, his tone reflective. They did a half-assed job of cleaning up before collapsing beside each other on the bed. Eventually, Blaine regained enough muscle control and mental where-with-all to roll into Kurt’s side.

"For getting the great and powerful Kurt Hummel to admit he likes a lowly nerd like myself?" Blaine grins, though Kurt can’t see it with the way Blaine’s face is pressed into his chest. "Maybe a little."

"It’s not that I don’t. It’s that I _can’t_.” Kurt sighs. “You make me weak.”

Blaine is up and off him like a shot. Kurt waits for him to turn around, but Blaine keeps his back to him. “Weak?” Kurt reaches out for him when he hears the catch in his voice. He’s about to apologize - _that didn’t come out right_ \- but before he can, Blaine continues, “Funny, because I was going to say that you make me strong.”

"Blaine- That’s not what I-"

"I’d like for you to go now."

"No, Blaine, I’m not-"

"I said, _go_. Now.” A breath. “Please.”

Blaine stays where he is, his legs hanging over the side of the bed, his naked back rigid as he leans over his knees, his eyes closed. There’s a subtle shudder under his skin and Kurt scoots closer to soothe it with an open palm. His touch only elicits a stronger shudder, but Kurt doesn’t pull back, he slips both arms around Blaine from behind and hooks his chin over the smaller boy’s marked shoulder. Blaine doesn’t push him away, but remains a hard block of ice in his embrace.

"I’m sorry. I said that wrong. I made a name for myself by not caring about anything or any _one_. After my dad had his heart attack, no one’s left who can be used against me. I’ve made a lot of enemies to get where I am and-“

Blaine’s shoulders start to shake and just when Kurt thinks it’s from crying, he hears bubbling laughter. “Are you saying I’m the Pepper Potts to your Iron Man?”

"What- I-" Kurt is about to make a joke about Blaine being a comic book geek, but then remembers that he actually saw _Iron Man_ and that’s exactly what he’s trying to say. “Um… yes.”

Blaine lays a hand over the two Kurt has secured across his middle. The touch sparks Kurt and he unconsciously pushes closer, eager for forgiveness.

"You’re not a superhero, Kurt. And I’m not a damsel in distress. Or somebody to be held over a ledge as a bargaining chip." He laughs again at the thought. Kurt is pretty adorable sometimes. "I’m not popular. My only friends wear even thicker glasses than I do and spend their lunches in the computer lab. I’m not asking you to go public and ruin your reputation." Here he turns, made difficult by the way Kurt has bracketed him with arms and thighs, but he manages to angle himself enough that he can catch Kurt’s eyes and cup his cheek. "I just wanted you to admit that I’m more to you than a toy."

Kurt kisses him slowly, but eventually pulls back because actions _aren’t_ always louder than words.

"I-I… sometimes I think about holding your hand, what it would feel like. I imagine you smiling because of it, because of me, and it’s becoming harder and harder not to cross the halls and do it. I- I _think_ about you, even when I shouldn’t and not just when I’m horny as fuck.” Blaine remembers his thoughts from earlier that day and melts a little as Kurt rattles off his own similar desires.

"I don’t just think I like you, I think I like you _a lot_.”


	6. Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part is dedicated to [Mary](http://www.blametheleather.tumblr.com), because it was recently her birthday and she adores this trope more than most. Here’s to you, my darling. <3
> 
> And because I like visual aids, imagine the boys have been doing [this](http://asdreamsmaycome.tumblr.com/post/52236435557) for a while before this part begins. :)

"Why?!" Kurt whines, put-upon. Blaine pops his eyes open to see what has him so frustrated.

"I’ve told you why," he starts to calmly explain when the only thing he sees is Kurt’s hand hovering over the fabric revealed by the opened fly of his jeans, "I always wear boxers."

Kurt practically tears the Fruit-of-the-Loom as he shoves it down Blaine’s thighs, stopping there impatiently so Blaine is restrained in a knock-kneed position. “I meant why do you wear underwear at all.” He wiggles his own denim-clad ass in the air. “Commando is much better for easy access.”

Blaine laughs out a groan and drops his head back on the arm of the couch. He does appreciate Kurt’s considerate dressing habits, especially after 4th period when Blaine has to get all the way from the Science wing to Kurt’s English class within five minutes.

"That’s not true, though," Kurt continues, pressing his cheek to Blaine’s belly. Blaine sucks it in self-consciously, but Kurt just pinches him for his effort and licks his bellybutton to make Blaine squirm. "You never did tell me why you wear boxers."

"Does it need explaining?" Blaine sighs. "I’m a boy."

"I know that," Kurt lifts up with a roll of his eyes.

Blaine’s growing colder with anxiety and tugs at the bottom of his shirt to cover his once exposed stomach. Kurt frowns and bats his hands away to ruck the shirt all the way up under his armpits. He places kisses over both of Blaine’s pecs.

"I just meant- I dunno, wouldn’t it be more- comfortable? If you wore girl underwear? Don’t they fit better?"

Blaine straightens up on his elbows and waits until Kurt is looking at him before saying in a very clipped tone, “I. Am. A. Boy.”

He can see that Kurt doesn’t get it in the wrinkle between his eyebrows, like he’s trying to work out a Trig problem - _that Blaine knows he’s smart enough to answer even when he pretends not to understand anything in front of his teacher._

"But-"

"No," Blaine says sharply. He wriggles up to try and get better leverage to shove Kurt up and off him. He needs to leave.

"Hey, _hey_ -” Kurt is instantly regretful, which is a strange enough emotion for Blaine to know he has, let alone to see painted all over his face. He’s never sure if things like that are more obvious because Blaine knows him so much better now or because Kurt actually is changing a little by being with Blaine.

Kurt plants his palms on Blaine’s shoulders and bears down with all his body weight to keep him from escaping. “Stop! I’m sorry, okay. I was just- I dunno, I was curious.” There’s an embarrassed flush dusting his cheeks that Blaine wishes he didn’t find so endearing. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry, okay?”

Blaine observes him dubiously for a minute before his resolve falters. He never is very good at being stubborn. Or keeping a grudge.

"Okay."

Kurt pecks him on the lips. “Fashion has no gender.”

"What?"

"Nothing… just something I- nevermind. Now, where were we?" Kurt ducks his head away from Blaine’s inquisitive gaze to pepper more kisses down his chest. Despite all their squirming, Blaine is still bared to him from clavicle to mid-thigh. He’s just running a hand over the thatch of curly hair below Blaine’s navel when Blaine tells him to stop.

"What for?" Kurt’s back to whining. He hates being denied, but always obeys Blaine’s wishes. Yet another thing that contrasts greatly with Blaine’s first impression of the "rebel."

"I-uhh…" Blaine blushes. "We’ve been at this a while and I had a lot to drink earlier, so I…."

Kurt grins evilly. _Uh-oh._

"So?"

"So I need to-" Blaine flails his hand in the direction of the bathroom.

"Hold it." Kurt’s hand is already back where it was, coiling through hairs before sliding his two forefingers in a ‘v’ along Blaine’s outer lips.

"Excuse me?" Blaine gasps.

"Hold it. It’ll help with your stamina," Kurt teases.

"What?" But Blaine can already feel what Kurt means. Having to hold in his bladder also means holding in some of his arousal. Instead of sharp spikes of pleasure as Kurt’s fingers suddenly thrust inside, there is a dull throb settled low in his gut. "Oh god."

"Mm-hmm." Kurt’s smile is altogether too self-satisfied for Blaine’s liking, so he unzips his too-tight jeans and strokes at the bouncing cock he lets free. " _Gah_ -“

Point one for Blaine.

It’s nice to settle into the simplicity of handjobs. There’s something innocuous about the play of fingers and palms against sweaty, slick skin. It’s always a little frantic and a little jerky and a little amateurish in the best way. Blaine never focuses on the perfect grip or the ideal speed; Kurt lets him let go, so they both can just float on want and need.

Kurt doesn’t tease him like he usually does. His hand is firm as it cups him, his fingers insistent the way they run along his smooth folds and piston inside. But it’s enough for Blaine to feel that ache of pressure to keep things in check. Kurt has to try twice as hard to get the same mewls and streams of gibberish to fall from Blaine’s lips as he normally could with lighter touches.

Blaine starts to get desperate for a release - _no, bad word, wrong word -_ Blaine grunts and squeezes his eyes shut as Kurt pinches and rubs his clit. An end. Climax. He bites his lip at the ridiculous thesaurus of synonyms flitting through his mind and bucks up into Kurt’s touch.

"This really does work, huh?" Kurt nibbles his earlobe. His hips are already stuttering and Blaine isn’t surprised when he feels spurts of come coating his hand and chest a moment later. " _Fuuuuck_ ,” Kurt groans, both pleased and impressed. His hand only spasms for a second before continuing to stroke Blaine’s pussy.

Blaine grunts when Kurt drops his weight on top of him in momentary exhaustion. He widens his hips so they fit together a little better and so  Kurt has easier access to his sopping wet entrance.

"Kurt, please- I need- _please_ -“

Kurt lifts up with single-minded purpose and leans in for a long, deep kiss. He sucks Blaine’s breath into him and lets their tongues dance while shoving his fingers further and harder inside. He slips his thumb up and over Blaine’s clit, making deliberate circles over and around the hard nub.

"Come on, baby, come for me."

"I want to!" Blaine yells. He grapples at Kurt’s back and digs in with blunt nails, his body a riot of movement under the taller boy. If he could just get a little more- a right angle, a strong enough spark, a deep enough stroke. In an instant, his body finally succumbs to the sheer volume of stimulation heaped on it and he comes low and heavy.

It’s not the spine-tingling kind of orgasm that has him arch up and scream and see spots, it’s altogether different due to the time and effort it took to achieve. Blaine is silent, his mouth open, his internal muscles contracting in on themselves and he wraps a hand around Kurt’s wrist to keep him still, keep him there, for a long while.

When Blaine’s eyes eventually open, Kurt is watching him with a bit of awe. His free hand is softly drawing lines across Blaine’s forehead and down his temple.

"That was a very good idea," Blaine admits quietly.

"I’ve been known to have a few."

Blaine gives him something then, in that moment of physical vulnerability that Kurt never takes advantage of.

"I don’t like how they make me feel. I may have a pussy-" Blaine thinks Kurt looks a little proud of how he doesn’t stumble past that word "-but I’m a boy and panties make me feel like a girl."

Kurt’s eyes crinkle fondly. He kisses the apple of Blaine’s cheek.

"I don’t know, you in black lace sounds pretty hot to me."

Blaine’s eyes blow wide. He is more than surprised at how much he agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter comes close to what most would consider watersports, but really just plays with the idea of pressure and doesn't involve anyone actually peeing.


	7. Part 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part did not want to be written, I swear to god. Hopefully the visual will help. ;)

Blaine tries to shift subtly as he walks down the hall on his way into school. He ends up doing a bit of a hop-skip so the material cupping his buttocks doesn’t ride up so much in the middle. He gets a weird look from one of the Cheerios, but he always gets weird looks from them, so he shrugs it off. It’s not until he reaches his locker that he’s called out on his squirming hips.

“Ants in your pants?” Kurt laughs.

Blaine’s head shoots up to look at him. Kurt never approaches him in such a public space. He glances around and spots the same Cheerio from before, who’s now looking at him with an even more interested uptick to her eyebrows.

“What are you doing?” he hisses while swapping out books from his locker to his backpack. “You shouldn’t be seen with me.” He says it more for Kurt’s sake than his own, there’s no way Blaine’s social status could drop any lower than it currently is.

“I’m a _rebel_ ,” Kurt teases.

Blaine looks at him again. Kurt seems _happy_ of all things. No brooding stare, no studded black entourage, no cigarette perched behind one ear. He’s leaning against the wall of lockers and smiling casually at their creeped-out peers passing by.

“Are you okay?”

“What? Can’t a guy be in a good mood?”

“Not you,” Blaine shakes his head, shuts his locker and starts making his way to homeroom. Kurt follows along beside him, earning more stares from the string of jocks, stoners and band geeks they pass on their way.

“Awww, now, don’t be that way.” Kurt runs the backs of his fingers up Blaine’s arm. “I just got some good news, is all.”

Blaine takes the long way to class by ducking left at the stairs so they have a few more minutes together. “Any chance you’re going to share your good news? Or are you just going to continue grinning like an idiot and put the entire school on edge?”

Kurt intertwines their fingers and Blaine does a full force stop in the middle of the practically empty hallway – almost no one uses the back entrance to the English classrooms at this time of day. He turns to Kurt, trying his best not to get too excited at Kurt’s easy familiarity. It’s not what he hopes it is. It’s not the start of a real, public relationship. It’s just a good mood.

Kurt, apparently unaware of the increase in his heart rate, leans closer and whispers, “I got into NYU.”

“Really?” Blaine shoots back with wide eyes. 

“Really.”

“Oh my god, Kurt! That’s great!” And without thinking of anything but shared joy, Blaine jumps forward to hug Kurt tight around the shoulders. He doesn’t mention his early admittance into Columbia or how the idea of them being in the same city next year makes him grip a little tighter – not now, not yet.

“I couldn’t wait to tell you,” Kurt admits quietly in the small space between Blaine’s neck and shoulder. “Three more months and I’ll be free.”

They’ve never talked about Kurt’s foster home, but Blaine knows it hasn’t been an easy place to live. He’s as excited as Kurt for him to get out on his own and away from that toxicity.

“Congratulations,” Blaine sighs with the ringing of the bell. He lets his arms drop reluctantly, possibly the only time he’s ever been reluctant to go to class, and then says with his best attempt at a suggestive wink, “I have a little something for you for later. Maybe now it can be a celebratory gift. Meet me under the bleachers at lunch?”

Kurt looks suitably intrigued, but then Blaine hooks a finger in his waistband and pulls his khakis down a fraction of an inch, and he becomes downright wanton. Blaine had just revealed the top of a pair of very lacy, very black panties.

“ _Blaine_ ,” he chokes.

“See you at lunch!” Blaine shouts as he dashes around the corner to get to class. He refuses to give Kurt the opportunity to convince him to skip school.

——

There are two sets of bleachers and Blaine considers both on his way to the football field. One is decked out with a couch and other lifted sidewalk furniture. It’s the place where Kurt first cornered him two months before, thankfully Quinn and the girls weren’t there to observe.

Oh.

 _Oh_ , Blaine will have to investigate that hitch of excitement later.

The other set is closer to where Kurt usually hangs out with Scott and Glen and that red-head from juvey. They don’t like to admit that they’re anything like the skanks, even though they all share fresh scars and ringing ears.

He sees a hint of hot pink and a thin trail of cigarette smoke beneath the first and so heads for Kurt’s usual spot, despite the lack of comfortable canoodling-type seating. It’s blissfully secluded when he ducks under the top two rows of the bleachers and finds a spot obscured by manicured bushes.

“Hey,” Kurt breathes hot against the curve of his ear from behind.

Blaine jumps and spins around so fast he nearly trips himself.

“Oh my god, you scared me half to death!”

“At least only half. I have plans for the other half of you.” Kurt swaggers closer and rests his hands on Blaine’s hips like they belong there. His gaze is fixed where he knows lace to be. “So, can I have my congratulatory present now?”

Blaine tries to resist grinning like a idiot himself… and fails. He didn’t think the underwear would be _this_ big of a hit. “We can’t do much here,” he says and pointedly ignores the eyebrow Kurt raises in challenge, “but I couldn’t wait until after school to show you.”

Kurt kisses him, a little hard so their teeth clack.

“What are our limits? You can’t tease me like that and then not let me see.”

“Oh!” Blaine immediately begins unbuttoning his khakis. “No, of course you can see!” He pulls the stiff fabric over the curve of his ass and Kurt almost whimpers. Ok, there’s a good chance he _does_ whimper. He might even cry a little as he falls to his knees and buries his nose against Blaine’s hipbone.

“Oh fucking god _yes_.”

Kurt pets at the front of [the panties](http://www.victoriassecret.com/panties/cheekies-and-cheekinis/lace-cheeky-panty-very-sexy?ProductID=150982&CatalogueType=OLS) stretched tight over Blaine’s mound. His fingers bump over the holes in the pattern of the lace when he traces it around to Blaine’s lower back.

“Mmm, cheeky.”

Blaine isn’t sure if Kurt’s accusing him of being so or just commenting on the type of panty he picked out. After five periods in cold plastic chairs, he’s _almost_ used to the feeling of exposure from having his ass cheeks peek out the bottom of the flimsy material.

“I’m imagining you shopping for these right now. Victoria’s Secret?” Blaine nods at his question, very much turned on by the sight of Kurt worshipping him from below. “Fuck, yes, at the mall. So innocent, just walking past silk nighties and thongs and-” Kurt groans “-and browsing through cuts and colors and maybe trying some on…” Kurt’s worked himself up so much that Blaine is almost afraid to admit the truth.

“Uh… well, it was more me running in, grabbing the first thing with black lace, and hiding under my brother’s baseball cap at the check-out counter.”

“I don’t care.” And Kurt clearly doesn’t. He’s already palming himself through his jeans with the one hand he was willing to remove from Blaine’s ass. His breath is warming Blaine’s stomach as he continues to stare… and drool. “You got them. Who cares how. You _got_ them.”

Suddenly, Kurt jerks away. “Wait. You got them.”

Blaine bobs his chin up and down slowly, a little worried that Kurt is stuck on repeat. He watches as Kurt rises to his feet and becomes horribly confused when his expression shifts from delirious arousal to soft concern.

“Are you okay? Are you comfortable?”

“What?”

“You didn’t have to do this for me. I didn’t mean to- I hope I- I’m sorry if I pressured you.”

He looks honestly contrite and Blaine has to wonder what alternate universe he stepped into where Kurt Hummel is apologizing to the class nerd and worried about something other than his reputation. Or, maybe he’s always been like this and just never let anyone see. Kurt, the notorious badboy, might just be Kurt, the award-winning actor – a cigarette pack denting his back pocket unsmoked, the stories of fist-fights merely planted rumors. The more time he spends around Kurt, the more likely that seems.

Blaine touches the cuff curled around the top of Kurt’s left ear. There’s no actual cartilage piercing to keep it in place, but the illusion is there all the same. He strokes Kurt’s left eyebrow next, feeling over the bump in the middle. That piercing was real. You can’t fake a broken brow like that, even with the best stage make-up. So why remove the real in favor of the fake?

Blaine doesn’t follow that train of thought. Instead, he leans in and presses his lips solidly to Kurt’s. They give under his pressure and he spends several minutes tasting for the sheer pleasure of it.

He makes it a quiet gesture when he brings Kurt’s hands back down to his hips, but Kurt moans into their kiss when Blaine slides them around to cup his ass. Kurt rubs into him when he takes the cue and squeezes over lace, under lace, through lace.

“You really don’t mind?”

“Kurt,” Blaine laughs, endeared. “I may not like them for me, but I like them for you.” He squirms, but Kurt grips tighter and slips his fingers under the strip of fabric between Blaine’s legs. “I can’t promise I’ll wear them every day, but for you, for _this_ ,” he emphasizes when Kurt strokes him intimately, “I can make an exception.”

“I like your exceptions,” Kurt bites into his jawline. He removes his hand to unbutton his jeans and pull himself free. Blaine is just about to push his pants down lower, when Kurt stops him.

“No, no. Keep them there. It’ll be easier this way.”

“What will be easier?”

Kurt answers by showing, sliding his cock between Blaine’s warm thighs, forced together by the material caught above his knees.

“Oh,” he gulps.

It’s oddly erotic to watch as Kurt’s flesh disappears and reappears between them. It’s similar enough to that one time he rode Kurt on the couch, that Blaine feels a phantom fullness low in his gut. This is lighter, though, and pulses through the thinness of the panties Blaine’s still wearing, also messier as Kurt spreads pre-come across dry skin.

Kurt is moaning like it’s the best he’s ever felt, his own eyes wide and watching like Blaine’s. One of his thumbs keeping tracing the lace curved over the top of Blaine’s pelvic bone while the other flexes and releases against Blaine’s right ass cheek.

They’re standing close enough, slammed together as one, that Blaine is able to rest his chin on Kurt’s shoulder. He watches the world beyond them like it’s not the same one he left when he first ducked under the bleachers. Everything is plastically bright, sharp colors on distant figures, faded shouts across crowded courtyards. He and Kurt are isolated, separate, once more alone where labels and judgment can’t reach them.

Kurt forces him back to attention with wet gasps against his ear.

“ _Fuck_ , Blaine, you feel so good.”

“You’re not even in me.”

“I don’t need to be.” Kurt runs a hand down his side and pistons in and out a little faster. “All of you feels good.”

Blaine blushes pink and nuzzles closer to Kurt’s neck. He squeezes his thighs tighter together, just to feel Kurt spasm, then does it again. He would worry about a friction burn, but Kurt’s cock keeps nudging his entrance like it knows where it wants to be and Blaine has completely soaked through his panties, lending plenty of lubricant. The slide is easier now and Kurt no longer grunts with the effort. He’s drifted into cut-off pleas and unintelligible noises that could be both pleasure and pain.

Kurt’s always more vocal than Blaine when they’re at school. Blaine is still rationally afraid of getting caught. He uses his lips for kisses instead of moans, letting Kurt know in another way how much he’s enjoying this too. He may even bite a little, especially when their legs slap together so hard it stings and Kurt starts to lose it.

Blaine doesn’t come with Kurt, who shifts back so he can shoot his spunk on the ground and save themselves some mess. He grabs a tissue from his bag to wipe off with, then does his best to matte the shine from Blaine’s legs as well.

“Do you want-” Kurt seems uncertain when he pushes his fingers to Blaine’s lace-covered clit. It’s rare when he doesn’t get Blaine off first, or at least at the same time.

Blaine shakes his head dopily. He’s hazy with an influx of endorphins and in no mood to drop back down to Earth.

“Nope,” he pops the ‘p.’

“You sure?”

Kurt pecks him on the lips when Blaine only moves to wrap his arms around his neck in a hug. A bell rings far off in the distance.

“Told you we couldn’t do much.” Blaine cuddles closer. He feels high as a kite. His heart rate never increased past a steady hum, so he’s pleasantly floating in the middle of an arousal that has yet to spike. He can feel throbbing, deep and constant, part of him still milking that phantom cock. He wonders how long he can last like this. “Come over tonight?” he whispers.

“Finish the job?” Kurt completes.

“Yes, please. Maybe we’ll even take our clothes off this time?”

Kurt snaps the elastic around Blaine’s waist. “Not these. I’m not done with these yet.”

Blaine wiggles his butt when he pulls his pants back up. He presses his mouth to the shell of Kurt’s uncuffed ear, “I’ll be thinking of you as I sit in them, wet and hot, for the next two hours.”

Kurt whimpers.

Again. 


	8. Part 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some sex. Some schmoop. Thus endeth the tale of nerd!bp!Blaine and badboy!Kurt… at least for now. [I’ll always be open for prompts](http://asdreamsmaycome.tumblr.com/). ;)

"What’s this?" Blaine murmurs as he shifts his mouth over a raised line on the side of Kurt’s neck. Kurt arches unconsciously to give him more room.

"A scar."

Blaine nips at the pale, jagged skin, displeased with the vagueness. Kurt can be willfully cryptic often, whether to tease or enrage is dependent upon the asker.

"From?" Blaine presses. He traces the small bump with the tip of his tongue before covering it with his entire mouth and sucking.

Kurt gasps. Bucks up into his hand. Blaine strokes him once more, only once, very slowly.

" _Grrngggh_ … bad hair cut. Mom got me with the scissors."

And now Blaine knows why Kurt made him work for a real answer. Memories of his mother are sacred things only brought to light with extreme care. And trust.

Blaine licks the sensitive skin again, enjoying the way Kurt squirms like he is being pulled taught. He rears back only when an oblong bruise is bright and flowering, the scar stubbornly maintaining its paleness, a lightning bolt through a stormy cloud.

"And this one?" Blaine questions as he traces Kurt’s eyebrow with his thumb, his digit tripping over a break in the fine hairs.

"Eyebrow ring. Didn’t take." Kurt shrugs, but makes an aborted move with his fingers like he is twisting the accessory between them. A habit not yet forgotten despite the source healing over.

Blaine dips down to kiss the bare spot that might never re-grow hair. “Pity,” he says to himself. Though that would have notched Kurt’s appeal up to near inhuman levels, so maybe it’s best for everyone that the only piercing he has left isn’t visible.

"This one not enough for you?" Kurt misjudges, sticking his tongue out and waggling it profanely.

Blaine sucks it into his mouth too fast for Kurt to retract. His teeth bump the metal bar of Kurt’s tongue ring while he steals the breath straight from Kurt’s lungs. Kurt grabs Blaine’s ass with open palms and drags him into a straddle. Their kiss wobbles, air seeps in, then both boys settle and their mouths fuse together once more.

——

They are outside when Kurt inquires after Blaine’s scars. The sun taking away the dark fear that most of them were born from. There’s one on Blaine’s knee, newly exposed beneath his Bermuda shorts. Kurt feels it when he clasps Blaine’s thigh affectionately, his pinky picking up the uneven patch of skin.

“What’s this from?”

Blaine looks away from his BLT to check what Kurt’s looking at. “Oh, um, Don Thompson pushed me into the corner of the bleachers last year.”

Kurt frowns.

He forgets sometimes who Blaine is to the rest of the world – what he used to be to Kurt. They’ve moved so far beyond stereotypes in the pockets of time they share together. Kurt no longer notices the glasses or high-waisted pants so much as the boy underneath.

Kurt leans down to kiss the old wound as if he has the magical power of a parent erasing the pain of a boo-boo from memory.

A little while later, he finds one on Blaine’s bicep, peeking out from the short sleeves of his polo. It’s in an odd place around the back near his armpit. There is still some discoloration around the sharp L-shape of the scar tissue and Kurt wonders if it was recent. He spends a while trying to figure out what would leave such an impression.

Blaine is none-the-wiser as he watches a father and daughter play catch in the open field of the park. It’s rare that they spend time like this. No sex, just time together. In public. He’s soaking it in.

“Did you lose a fight with a bookshelf?” Kurt finally guesses. Those L-brackets that secure shelves to walls in case of an earthquake can be nasty.

Blaine laughs. He glances over his shoulder at Kurt, about to sit up, but Kurt holds him in place where he’s leaning back against him on the bench. Blaine relents, not really wanting to move from his comfortable sprawl anyway.

“What on Earth are you talking about?”

Kurt presses two fingers to the faintly purple mark on Blaine’s arm. “This. I was trying to figure out what did this.”

Blaine hums, wracking his brain to remember the spot that Kurt’s talking about. He doesn’t stare at his back that often. And then it comes to him.

“Oh! That’s the one that still looks bruised, right?”

The fact that Blaine has to clarify makes Kurt want to strip him bare right then and there to see how many more he’s missed – in his defense, he has other things on his mind when he gets Blaine naked… and they have an annoying habit of getting to them all before their clothes are even removed.

“That was in the locker room after gym. Ben got me when I was changing.”

Kurt grips Blaine’s upper arm.

“ _Got_ you?” He wants to add more - _got you with what?_ or _how?_ \- but his voice stalls in sudden panic.

“The locker,” Blaine answers matter-of-factly, if almost patronizing. Isn’t it obvious?

“A locker did that?” Kurt rubs the spot again unconsciously, his thumb convinced it can soothe old wounds by repetition alone. He’s seen kids pushed into lockers on almost a daily basis and he’s never really thought about how much it probably hurts. Even still, how hard did Blaine have to be shoved to get cut?

“The door was open,” Blaine clarifies. He shudders. “That one really hurt – I had to get stitches and everything.”

Kurt wants to ask the stupid, the ignorant, the if-only-life-were-fair question: _“Did Ben get suspended for that?”_ But he doesn’t, because he knows all too well that life isn’t fair. That some things get looked over. A privileged few seem to walk on water and the unfortunate majority are ignored.

\----

He finds more scars later that night. Now that he’s looking for them, Blaine seems covered in little hurts.

Before he can ask again. Before he can get an itemized list and start planning vengeance on every bully at their school, Blaine interrupts him with a kiss.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“You’re driving yourself crazy. It’s fine.”

“It’s _not_ fine.” Kurt straightens up. Blaine sighs and moves to sit at his side.

“Okay, maybe not. But _I_ am. I wasn’t before, but I am now.”

“What changed?”

Blaine smiles. It’s his secretive one that means he knows more than Kurt. “Do you really have to ask?” He whispers while leaning forward for a kiss. The give and take is so much more fluid now, more easily shared. Kurt doesn’t have to lead, to demand, to dominate in order for Blaine to feel comfortable. Blaine can take control without stuttering through self-conscious apologies first.

“You’ve made me stronger.”

Kurt’s heard him say so before, but he still has a bit of a hard time believing he could have such a positive influence on someone else’s life. He’s lived the badboy reputation for so long, he forgets that’s just a role he plays.

“You’ve made _them_ weaker in my eyes,” Blaine continues, another kiss finding a place on Kurt’s chin. “I see how petty they are now and they don’t scare me as much.” He pushes at Kurt’s shoulders until they’re both lying down again and Blaine shows him, with every rock of his hips, flutter of his eyes, gasp of his mouth, how far he’s come from that shaking mouse that Kurt first cornered under the bleachers.

“I don’t want you to get hurt again,” Kurt admits later when they are sweaty and strung out and the vulnerability of his body in that moment before orgasm translates into a willingness to share emotion.

Blaine writhes below him. He’s already come once, riding Kurt with little skill but a lot of determination, and now Kurt has him on his back with his legs hooked up and over Kurt’s shoulders. Kurt is easing him along with three fingers buried in his loose, wet pussy, and Blaine is still a novice at both multiple orgasms and overstimulation, so he’s a puddle of incoherent mewls right now.

“Wha?” Kurt will forgive him for not being able to form complete words.

“I don’t want those assholes to get their hands on you again.” The fingers of his free hand dig into Blaine’s right thigh. Blaine would be lying if he said he didn’t want them to leave a mark. Those are the good kind. Not the leftovers from bullying, but the badges of smug pride he wears like armor when he faces the halls of McKinley.

“Okay,” he agrees dopily, then keens when Kurt pinches his clit.

“ _Kuuurt_ ,” he begs. Their current position lends itself well to being pounded into the mattress and Blaine is desperate for it. Kurt just keeps fingering him, though, his cock hard and trapped between Blaine’s ass and the bed.  

Blaine wonders.

He’s never thought of it before. It’s never occurred to him to ask. Kurt’s always been so fascinated with his pussy. But what if…

Blaine flexes his ass so his cheeks squeeze around Kurt.

Kurt’s continued diatribe of how he plans to protect Blaine cuts off abruptly. “Blaine?” he chokes.

“Want to try something new?”

“Oh fuck, baby, you know how I love your ideas,” Kurt groans against the inside of Blaine’s knee.

“I don’t- uh- I- ” Blaine doesn’t mean to stutter. He doesn’t want Kurt to think he’s second guessing what he hasn’t even coherently suggested yet. He resorts to showing by reaching between the tight press of their bodies and slipping Kurt’s fingers out of his pussy and down. “I don’t have any lube,” he finishes lamely, his eyes closed.

“Well you know I do.” Kurt’s warmth vanishes for a minute. Blaine keeps his eyes closed and his knees up awaiting his return. Kurt slots back into place with a few bounces of the bed and nearly catching Blaine’s heel in his eye. His cock is now up, though, resting hot against Blaine’s pussy, to leave his ass open for questing, slick fingers.

“You sure?” Kurt asks. He always asks. Especially with something new.

Blaine clenches when he feels Kurt’s thumb rub across his rim. It’s a wholly different feeling than the instant sparking when Kurt strokes his pussy. But he’s curious. And Kurt’s been with a lot of guys, so he’ll know what to do.

Blaine’s eyes finally open. Maybe he should have suggested the reverse.

“Do you- ?” he half asks while reaching behind Kurt to slip a finger down his ass suggestively.

Kurt makes an unintelligible noise deep in the back of his throat, bites his lip, then dives down for a plunging kiss.

“ _Jesus_ , I think you’re going to kill me.” He runs his tongue ring along the inside of Blaine’s cheek.

“Is that a yes?”

Blaine dips down to press against Kurt’s hole.

Kurt whines, then grabs Blaine’s wrist and traps his hand against the pillows. He leans his weight further down so Blaine has to concentrate to suck in a deep breath. Being bent in half is good for sexytimes, not so good for breathing.

“That’s a yes, but not now. _Oh god_ , is that a yes,” Kurt groans and buries his growling mouth against Blaine’s neck. “It’s been a while. And I like it. But I also like you. And the idea of doing that with you. Now. With my fingers.”

“Kurt? You’re babbling.”

“ _Of course_ I’m fucking babbling. You say these things and I- ” He twists his head around vaguely, but Blaine gets the point.

Kurt doesn’t waste any more time. He pushes the tip of his forefinger past Blaine’s tight rings of muscle. Blaine didn’t even notice him squirting more lube on his fingers. He seizes up a little in surprise and has to have Kurt coax him into relaxing with soft reassurances and even softer kisses.

“Shh, honey, easy.”

Blaine still marvels sometimes at how sweet Kurt is. At how he never takes advantage of Blaine’s trust. He’s forever thankful that he gets to see this considerate side of him.

In the end, Kurt suggests stimulating his clit again to amp his arousal up. Blaine counters by guiding Kurt’s cock into his pussy and asking him to set up a low rhythm. They do that instead. And what started as hot and desperate ends a bit tenderly.

Blaine lasts for a long time – it turns out his second orgasm takes longer to achieve – and even though Kurt only gets one finger in the other side of him, he finds he likes the added stretch and added fullness. Maybe they’ll try working up to two fingers next time.

In Kurt.

\----

"What changed for you?" Blaine’s gaze is locked on a picture frame angled funny on Kurt’s nightstand, like he didn’t intend anyone to see it but himself. It is clearly him and his mother, her arms looped carelessly around Kurt’s shoulders, not knowing the level of importance that moment would have later as a beacon for Kurt’s memories. She was beautiful and Blaine is heartened to see her smile reflected on Kurt, but Blaine’s attention is drawn to the young boy in front of her. His face slanted down and blushing. Chubby cheeks and a bowtie, a teacup dangling from one hand.

Shy. Proper. Downright preppy.

"Eh," Kurt shrugs. "Time."

Blaine rolls back into his side, their naked bodies cool and dry in contrast to their heated exertions from the night before. Blaine’s never spent the night at Kurt’s before, but he said something about his foster parents being gone for the day with the two little ones that, while convenient, Blaine didn’t feel like questioning.

“Do you like being a badass?” The last spills out awkwardly from Blaine’s mouth. Swearing is still a new thing.

Kurt grins. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“It doesn’t bother you that people are scared of you?” Blaine’s eyes catch on another picture on the other side of the room. His glasses are askew from the way he’s smooshed against Kurt’s chest, though, so he can’t make out much more than a large blob with a trucker hat holding a thinner blob against his side. There might be some tires in the background.

“I prefer it. People don’t bother me that way.”

Blaine stretches. His left hand finds its favorite spot tucked behind Kurt’s ear where he can trace the shape of the two black stars there. Kurt’s hand slips from Blaine’s upper back down to the curve of his ass as Blaine elongates.

They study each other.

Being an object of interest used to frighten Blaine more than almost anything else in the world. He often wished keeping his head down and voice quiet would be enough to have him blend into the background.

But with Kurt he finds a kind of peace in letting someone notice him.

“Do I bother you?”

“Of course not,” Kurt scoffs.

“Good,” Blaine smiles a bit shyly. “I don’t want you to not be yourself around me.”

Kurt’s face stills. “Blaine. I’m the _most_ myself around you.”

And the next day, he dares the world to defy him when he grabs Blaine’s hand and walks him, in front of everyone, all the way to homeroom.

He does it again the day after that, just in case anyone thought it was a fluke.  

And seals it with a kiss in the middle of the courtyard at lunch, side-eyeing Ben and anyone else who looks at them funny – people he secretly has on a “vengeance list” tucked away in his wallet.

They don’t magically become different people. Blaine still wears bowties and spends most of his time worrying about his grades. Kurt still drapes himself in leather and studded cuffs and refuses to crack a smile for anyone but Blaine.

But their influence on each other is plain for their limited friends to see, and eventually Blaine introduces Kurt to Artie and gets introduced to Quinn and Puck in turn and while they don’t have world peace-ending lunches together, they say hello to each other in the halls and share notes in class and suddenly Puck is helping Artie out of a tipped port-a-potty.

And the next year, under a New York City sky, Kurt says to him, “You know, you’ve had it wrong this whole time.”

“I have?” Blaine takes another sip of his coffee, his glasses sliding down his nose. Kurt pushes them back into place.

“Yeah. _You’re_ the one who makes _me_ strong.”


End file.
